


With Bells On

by Laurelin (Lintelomiel)



Series: A Little Elf Magic [2]
Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Collaboration, Dating, Dogs, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Family, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Pets, Reminiscing, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 12:20:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5374976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lintelomiel/pseuds/Laurelin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that they owned a little piece of suburban New York and had started laying the foundations for family life, Richard and Lee were looking forward to creating some Christmas memories to go with their new home.</p><p>For Richard, that meant decorating the tree. Lee, on the other hand, wanted to take 'ringing in the holiday season' slightly more literally.</p><p>Sequel to 'An Unexpectedly Merry Christmas' by eucatastrophe__x.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Bells On

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written in close collaboration with eucatastrophe__x and should be considered a sequel to her story 'An Unexpectedly Merry Christmas', so it is highly recommended to read that first, and when you do please give her some love for it! All credits for the concept (Lee as a Christmas elf) go to her, I'm just riding her coattails here. :)
> 
> 2015 has been all about RichLee for me - I have met many lovely people in this fandom and made some new friends along the way, which is both unexpected and very welcome. I had so much fun writing this story (including the -sometimes very- late night and -sometimes very- early morning discussions with my esteemed co-creator) and would love to hear from you in the comments. 
> 
> Enjoy and happy holidays to all! x

Decorating the tree had always been one of Richard's favorite Christmas activities.

In truth, though, that fondness probably should be ascribed to the power of selective memory more than anything else. As children, he and his sister Sophie (three years his junior but never one to be underestimated) would have the same argument every year, driving their long-suffering parents up the walls as they squabbled over their favorite ornaments and the ceremonial, hugely desirable task of plugging in the Christmas lights for the first time once the tree was decked out in all its glittery glory. Whenever Richard thought of his childhood Christmases, that was the memory that came to the forefront first. It would never fail in putting a smile on his face - and even now, as the adult man of middle age that he was, he still felt that little jolt of childlike anticipatory joy upon opening the cardboard box labeled 'XMAS' and getting that first whiff of typical musty staleness. The nostalgic, once-in-a-year smell of Christmas ornaments after a year in the attic.

He placed the box on the floor by the living room window, where the still-bare tree had been waiting since they picked it up at the store that morning (both he and Lee were sticklers for the real thing, as opposed to the horrendous artificial collapsibles that were de rigueur among many of their American acquaintances). Gus came over at a trot to investigate, tail wagging as he circled the box and sniffed it curiously. Once the box and its contents were found to be harmless, he let out a happy little _woof!_ and triumphantly plumped himself down next to it, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he looked up at Richard with those chocolate brown eyes Richard had fallen in love with the moment he saw the Labrador in his kennel at the ASPCA half a year ago. When Gus had come forward to lick their fingers through the mesh and nudge them with his wet nose, Richard and Lee had looked at each other simultaneously and made the decision then and there to bring him home.

And home, for the last eight glorious months, had been this perfect little house in a quiet, leafy suburb of New York that scored consistently high in livability rankings. Well, maybe it wasn't perfect, at least not yet; the fact that a freelance writer and elementary school teacher had been able to get a mortgage for a single-family detached home in this neighborhood at all was thanks to the fact that it needed a ton of work done to it, but a fixer-upper was exactly what they had been looking for in the first place-- a forever home that they could improve upon and make their own. And so, instead of taking a holiday, they'd stayed home over the summer and gotten their hands dirty replacing cracked roof tiles, cleaning out clogged gutters, sanding and repainting the porch and pulling out the worst of the weeds in the overgrown garden. (By the end of the summer, they were both so tanned from working shirtless that people repeatedly asked them if they'd been to the Caribbean or some other sunny destination.) On rainy days they worked indoors, stripping wallpaper and ripping out hideous, twenty year old carpet. The first rooms to be tackled were the two spares, where Sophie and Michael and the kids would be staying during their Christmas visit this year, and watching those rooms slowly transform under their own hands had been immensely satisfying.

And while they'd picked fairly neutral paint colors and furnishings this time around, the possibility that one day in the not so very distant future those guestrooms might be put to a different use was never far from their minds.

"The neighborhood is very family friendly," the realtor had told them the day they came to view the house for the first time. "The majority of people moving here are young families or couples looking to start one. In terms of school catchment you'd be set for life. Do you have kids?"

"Not yet," Richard had said as he reached for Lee's hand without making eye contact, knowing that if he did, the realtor might be dealing with two crying men. He felt the little squeeze Lee's fingers gave him in return. "But it's definitely on our list."

He remembered the first time the subject of children had come up in conversation as if it happened yesterday. He and Lee had been dating for a little over five months and although they weren't officially living together yet, they rarely spent a night apart. (Three months further down the line Lee's roommate would conveniently leave to study abroad, and Richard jumped at the chance to move the last of his stuff over, making it official.) A few days after giving birth to little Matilda, Sophie had called to show them the new addition through Skype for the first time, flanked by Michael who looked absolutely knackered and didn't say much but still managed to beam proudly like any new father would. The twins joined in for part of the conversation as well, abandoning their toys to say hi. For a few minutes they chatted about the typical things that kept six year olds occupied - school, teachers, friends, soccer practice and of course their new status as big brothers - until Seb, who'd been squinting at the laptop screen for a while, suddenly said, "Uncle Lee, what are you eating?"

Richard had never introduced Lee as the twins' new uncle, but apparently the simple fact that he rarely missed a Skype session and formed a set with Richard - so to speak - had led the boys to draw their own conclusions as to how he ought to be addressed. From the way Lee blinked in surprise and struggled for words Richard could tell that the honorary title struck a tender chord in him.

"It's cereal," Lee replied, lifting the bowl higher so the boys could see. "That's what I'm having for breakfast. It's afternoon where you are, but it's morning here, remember?"

The twins nodded thoughtfully-- Sophie had explained the time difference to them when they visited New York a few months earlier.

"And it's Saturday there, too?" Seb checked, just to make sure he was getting it right.

"Thankfully, yes," Lee laughed. "I'd be very late for work if it wasn't."

"Do you work at an office, like Daddy?" Tom piped up.

"No, I work at a school. I'm a teacher. I teach boys and girls your age the ABC's, and math and all the other things you learn at school." Richard knew how proud it made Lee to be able to say this. He had finally found a temp job in his field, filling in for a teacher on sick leave, and he was loving every minute of it (despite the fact that wrangling a classroom full of active six year olds left him feeling bulldozered at the end of the week).

"Wow," the twins chorused in identical voices, because in their eyes teachers were the ultimate adults - right up there with firefighters and policemen - and being part of that elite force clearly gave 'Uncle Lee' a huge boost up the coolness scale.

Richard later learned that Sophie had been equally surprised to find that her sons had accepted Lee into the family so casually - especially given the fact that most of the bonding had been done through Skype - but she was fully supportive of it.

Not that Richard would have expected anything less. He would never forget being seventeen years old and struggling with the emerging realization that he was not heterosexual - it would take him a few more years to figure out exactly where he sat on the sexuality scale - and Sophie defending him tooth and nail to their less than thrilled parents, other family members and basically anyone who deigned to share their opinion. It was all the more remarkable given that she was only fourteen at the time and had pieced together on her own what was going on with him simply by paying attention. She came and found him in his room one evening - he'd holed himself up in there as usual - sat him down and told him as lovingly as a teenager could that he ought to pull his head out of his own arse and realize that being gay - or bi, or whatever - was not the end of the bloody world. At the end of that conversation she hugged him, which she hadn't done since they were little. "Don't worry, Ricky," she told him (the nickname was an unfortunate remnant from when he was nine years old and briefly held out hope that a cooler name might do wonders for his nerdy reputation). "Soph's got your back, always."

And to that promise she'd held true. His sister's staunch support had proven invaluable on the journey to self-acceptance, especially those first hard years. Taking a hard line with naysayers, she'd cut people out of her life for sticking to their homophobic beliefs, and had even broken up with a high school boyfriend the minute he said it made him uncomfortable to visit her house when Richard was there.

That Saturday night, Lee had brought up the video call as they were getting ready for bed. "Your nephews really are amazing kids," he said as he peeled his jeans off of those impossibly long legs and glanced over his shoulder at Richard, who was just nestling down with a new book he was looking forward to reading. "I wouldn't mind having a classroom full of happy, well-adjusted kids like that."

"Yeah, they came out all right," Richard agreed with a grin, feeling a flash of familial pride. "But they're not just _my_ nephews anymore, are they, Uncle Lee?"

Lee smiled and lifted the covers to slip under them, curling himself up on his side. "Yeah, that was... unexpected. You don't mind, then?"

"Of course I don't mind. Why would I?"

"I don't know. You might think it's too soon."

"Well, I don't. Clearly Tom and Seb expect you to be in their lives for some time to come, and as far as I am concerned, they are not wrong."

Lee looked delighted-- there wasn't a better word in the English vocabulary to describe the wide, happy smile he gave Richard as he inched closer and nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder affectionately. "I really like where this is going, you know," he softly confessed. "Really, really like it a lot."

"I know. I really, really do, too."

When Lee beamed up at him with that radiant expression that never failed to shave about fifteen years off of Richard's age, he couldn't help but lean in, bringing up his hand to cup the back of Lee's head and guiding him closer for a spontaneous kiss.

"Rich," Lee murmured when their lips separated. "Can I ask you a potentially off-putting question?"

"I don't think there is anything you could ask that would put me off, but feel free to try."

"That is good to know," Lee said with a mischievous twinkle, "but no, it's not that kind of question. It's actually quite serious and important, and I'm frankly a bit nervous about it."

"Okay." Richard closed his book to give Lee his full attention. "What do you want to ask me?"

Lee went a bit wide-eyed, with panic quite possibly, and cleared his throat the way he only did when he was trying to buy himself time. "Well... you know I like kids."

"Of course." A blind fool could see that Lee was fond of children. Even that day in Santa's grotto, despite being distracted by Lee's appearance in ways that were a thousand kinds of wrong and inappropriate, Richard had noticed how natural and unforced Lee's rapport with children was.

"Right... then it probably won't surprise you that I'm kind of attached to the idea of starting a family in, like, the next five years or so?"

Richard held his breath for several long moments, gazing into Lee's hopeful eyes and thinking that his heart would burst. "Not really."

"And how... how do you feel about it?" Lee asked tremulously. "I mean, a family... is that something you can see yourself having further down the line?"

Richard could barely contain the joyous laughter bubbling up inside him, secure in the knowledge that Lee's anxiety would be short-lived. "Do you want the short or the slightly longer answer?"

"Um... let's hear the short one first, I guess?"

"The short answer is yes."

It was hard to describe just how luminescent Lee's responding smile of relief was, or how exuberantly happy and giddy it made Richard feel inside. "And the slightly longer one?"

Richard held Lee's gaze steadily. "Yes, I definitely see myself having a family at some point. In fact, I've always pictured children in my future, and a partner of course to raise them with."

"And a dog?"

"Naturally," Richard said quasi-seriously. "Can't have a family without a dog."

Lee had hugged him then, and kissed him and clambered on top of him as he pried the book from his fingers, and Richard had let himself be pushed back into the mattress and definitely not read a single letter that night. They hadn't dwelled on the subject or even broached it again until much later in the relationship, content to know that they were on the same page about what was arguably the most important decision they would ever make as a couple.

"That is wonderful," the realtor had said, smiling warmly at them both. "Well, trust me when I say that this house has ample space and bucketloads of potential. All it needs to become the family home you're looking for is a little TLC. I think you're going to fall head over heels in love with it."

And they had. They had fallen in love with it so hard that they had done the exact thing they'd promised themselves not to do, which was to put in an offer right there on the spot. After a few nerve-wracking days of negotiating and crunching numbers and negotiating some more, the house was theirs. Only Richard was home when the liberating phone call came, and he'd promptly written off the day in terms of work, gone out and bought the most ridiculously expensive bottle of champagne he could find. When Lee came home from school that afternoon - he now held a permanent position at the same school he'd temped at in their first year of dating - Richard had met him at the door with two glasses of champagne, a kiss and the announcement "Congrats, love, we're going to be dirt poor but happy house owners." They moved in two weeks later.

As hard as they'd worked during that summer of DIY, they'd barely begun to scratch the surface of what was required to transform their new abode into the dream house they envisioned - this was a process that would likely take years - but the guestrooms at least stood up to scrutiny. They'd ceremoniously hung the Christmas wreath on the front door the day before, so now all that was left to do to make the house Christmas-proof for when the family arrived in less than a fortnight was to get this tree properly decked out.

Except Lee was not here yet.

Richard wandered into the hallway and peered up the stairs. "Lee," he hollered in the general direction of the bedroom, "what is taking so long up there? This tree isn't going to decorate itself."

"I'll be there in a sec," Lee called back. "Just get started without me, I'll catch up."

Richard reluctantly turned away and trudged off to the kitchen with slouching shoulders, pouting and at the same time scolding himself - a forty year old man - for harboring this childish need for his partner to be as excited about sharing these festive tasks as he was. It was their first Christmas in their new house, their first Christmas with Gus, and Richard was committed to making every minute count. He'd been talking about this day since long before Thanksgiving and endured Lee's relentless teasing for it. He couldn't pretend that Lee's apparent indifference didn't leave him a little bit gutted.

Knowing that in Lee's world, 'in a sec' usually meant sometime in the next half hour (punctuality was still and probably always would be his weak point), Richard resigned himself to the wait and started getting things ready for tea. He put the kettle on and searched the cabinets for their season-appropriate cups (Lee's new favorite was a tacky winking Santa he'd brought home from London the previous year, a Christmas present from Tom and Seb). As he reached for the fridge to get the milk, he paused a moment to contemplate the collage of pictures stuck to the door and felt his face easing into a smile at the sight of those cherished mementos they had collected over the last few years. Among them, a picture of him and Lee kissing in front of the Rialto Bridge in Venice, beautifully lit by the milky light of early morning (their gondolier had taken it with Lee's camera and asked them in broken English if they were on their honeymoon), opera tickets from the same, fondly remembered holiday ( _Madama Butterfly_ at La Scala, a surprise early birthday gift for Richard), and several of the little sticky notes Lee often left for Richard to wake up to when he snuck out of bed in the morning to go running with Gus before work. Some were purely practical ( _pizza tonight?_ ), others playful ( _I don't know who snored harder last night, you or Gus,_ with a winky face tacked at the end). But Richard loved it best when Lee went all out, putting things in writing that still made him blush to the roots of his hair. Sometimes, the man had so much to say that a single post-it wasn't enough.

_Felt so damn lucky waking up just now and seeing you next to me. Couldn't resist helping myself to a kiss. Looking forward to doing it all again tomorrow!_

_You're the first, the last, my everything._ (Lee wasn't above stealing from the greats when it suited.)

_Got distracted watching you sleep this morning and am now running late. 20 mins well spent though. See you tonight xL_

For the dreaded occasion of Richard's 40th birthday, Lee had left a message along with a tray of breakfast goodies and a pot of tea (kept warm by a cozy): _  
_

_Dear Richard, am concerned to note that you're getting more gorgeous every single day. Discontinue this worrying development before you upset the hotness equilibrium in the world. PS: I know you are sad you missed being serenaded, but don't worry, I'll call at lunchtime and warble at you._ (And fuck if Lee hadn't charmed all of his colleagues into forming a choir around the lunch table and singing an exuberant version of 'Happy Birthday' with him on FaceTime.)

There were racier messages too, of course, but those were kept safely out of sight. Lee probably didn't realize it, but over the past three years, Richard had kept each and every one of his notes in an old shoebox, taking them out whenever he hit writer's block and needed something to smile about.

Most recently added to the collage was a drawing that had come in the mail a few weeks ago. Tom and Seb, along with the rest of their class, had been asked to draw what they wanted to do when they grew up, and when they showed the results at home Sophie had slipped Seb's in an envelope and sent it off to New York (with Seb's permission, of course). The picture showed a tall, bearded man in a plaid shirt standing in front of a blackboard, and written in Seb's wonky cursive it said: "i want to be a teecher like my uncle lee." Lee had immediately picked up the phone to thank Seb for the sentiment and his beautiful drawing (the spelling error he had let slide), and he'd proudly stuck it on the fridge so he could see it every day.

Mulling these things over as he stood at the kitchen counter waiting for the tea to brew, Richard was struck by the sudden realization what a soppy old git he was for placing so much importance on something as trivial as a tree and insisting that Lee do the same. Why this inexplicable need to make Christmas memories when making memories was what they did every day, all year round, without even trying or realizing it? His eyes moistened unexpectedly and his vision fogged up, the rush of emotion taking him by surprise a bit.

That first day at the mall alone had proven a cornucopia of fond memories he loved to take out and peruse. How he had been standing in line at the stationery shop feeling sorry for himself when suddenly Lee had appeared like something out of a vision, all smiles and wind-ruffled hair and so fucking beautiful that Richard was surprised he managed to string as many moderately coherent sentences together as he did. How he'd walked away from the encounter thinking that he would never see him again, until he did see him again, in the most unexpected of ways. How absolutely lovely Lee had been with Tom and Seb, and how hard it had been to put on a smile for their sakes and walk out of Santa's grotto _still_ not knowing his name or contact information, and how Lee had amended that by bringing him the plush dog and surreptitiously slipping him his number at the same time. How they had milked every second of Lee's thirty minute break, tucked in a private corner of the café with Lee's coffee and Richard's pot of English tea (Lee gently mocking the elaborate setup and the way that Richard fussed over getting the milk/tea ratio just right with every cup) and a fat slice of New York cheesecake Richard had ordered after he'd seen Lee eyeing it at the pastry display.

They'd talked-- Richard soon learned that there was no such thing as an uncomfortable silence with Lee, which meant one less concern on his list of dating phobias. Over the course of those thirty precious minutes Richard also discovered that Lee was just as forward and direct in person as he was when texting, the conversation devolving more than once into the most outrageous compliments being passed back and forth, at least several of them pertaining to Richard's eyes and smile (which Lee claimed were the most beautiful he'd ever seen). Richard received them stutteringly, basking in the warmth of the other man's attention and wondering ever more frantically how he was going to make it to the end of this half hour without kissing him. He had decided, pre-date, that he would leave that initiative to Lee, but fuck if his resolve wasn't being severely tested by the 'accidental' brushes of Lee's fingers against his and the knee nudges that could objectively be attributed to their long legs and the tininess of the French bistro table they were sitting at.

Soon, much too soon, Lee's watch beeped to announce the end of his break. He turned it off and gave Richard a regretful smile. "Yeah, I better head back. Duty resumes in five minutes and I still have to change."

"Yeah, about that." Richard allowed his eyes to wander south for a deliberate, leisurely inspection of Lee's appearance (certainly not the first, but he'd been a little less blatant the previous times - or so he hoped). "As much as I appreciated the costume, I'm glad you came as yourself." Not least, he thought, because Lee in that grey, fluffy hoodie, sleeves pushed up to reveal a pair of very sexy forearms, really was something quite spectacular.

"I agree, it was better to come incognito. I don't think we would've gotten much peace or privacy otherwise." Lee rose to his feet with one of those lovely laughs that made Richard's heart flutter feather-light, and it was that wondrous feeling that prompted Richard to reach out and touch Lee's hand, deliberately this time. "When will I see you again?" he asked tremulously, suddenly worried that he'd been disappointing company and that Lee was about to gently let him down and walk out of his life for good. "I mean... that is to say, if you want to-- um..."

What he was trying to do, very incoherently, was to offer Lee an out, but it appeared that Lee didn't want one; he curled his fingers around his and leaned in for a kiss on the cheek as sweet as any Richard had ever had.

"I finish at eight, call me after," he murmured, pulling back with a smile and giving Richard's hand one last squeeze, and damn it, those were the happiest and the most promising words Richard had ever heard and he wanted to embrace the whole world and do a silly dance right there.

(That feeling stayed with him long after they had parted, people giving him strange stares on the subway that afternoon as he grinned at random strangers and wished them a merry Christmas. And Sophie-- well, Sophie had known what was up the moment he walked in the door.)

Two days and much flirtatious banter (both over the phone and via texts) later, they'd gone on what was most definitely an Official Date, Richard having taken great care to shower and shave and iron the shirt Sophie had helped him pick out for the occasion. Sophie once again proved her worth that day, as it was largely thanks to her that Richard made it out the door in time, or at all for that matter. "Have a lovely time," she instructed as she ushered him out with a parting brush of his shoulders. "And for god's sake, don't be nervous. You like him, don't you?"

"Of course I do, that's why I'm nervous," Richard lamented, loitering just outside the door and idly patting his pockets to check for his wallet, keys and phone. "Seriously, Soph, what if I cock this up? Scare him off?"

"You won't, because you're lovely, and I daresay he's already figured that out." She kissed him on the cheek with an air of finality. "Now quit stalling and go. Don't want to keep that beautiful man waiting. Details after, okay? I'll be waiting up until you get home."

He took her wink to mean that she was joking, but Richard spared a moment regardless to reflect on the strangeness of the situation-- his younger sister sending him off on a date.

Date. The word made him giddy with excitement and nauseous with fear. "Fuck, I'm terrified," he breathed.

Her expression sobered somewhat. "I know," she said gently, "you're thinking of Brent and how that turned sour just as quickly as it took off, which wasn't your fault, by the way. But not all relationships go that route, Rich. Just take it as it comes. You like him, he clearly likes you, so having a pleasant evening together shouldn't be that difficult. Once you see him, all of that anxiety you're feeling right now will melt away, I guarantee it. And you want to know something else? I wouldn't be surprised if there was a kiss in the cards for you tonight."

And damn if she hadn't been right as usual.

Lee had made all the arrangements and texted him a rendez-vous point, and when Richard got there he was relieved to find that the first part of Sophie's prediction at least proved accurate - as soon as he saw Lee waiting, tall and lean and gorgeous, and received another kiss on the cheek that was surprisingly bashful given the nature of the texts they'd exchanged, he felt at ease and not the least bit nervous. For a while they strolled along Park Avenue with their hands shoved deep into their pockets, idly chatting and admiring the seasonal window displays, until Richard suddenly found himself being bundled into a church where a Christmas concert was about to start. Knowing Lee's love for carols, and seeing the man's hopeful smile, he didn't have the heart to tell him that he usually avoided these types of events like the plague, instead offering him a smile back and reminding himself that it really didn't fucking matter where they went or what they did. As long as he had those eyes to gaze into, how could he have anything less than a terrific time?

It was chilly in the church - of course it was - and sitting in one of the back pews close to the door didn't exactly help, so like most people in the audience, Richard and Lee both kept their coats on during the concert. Ducked into his collar and scarf, Richard tried his best to enjoy the performance for Lee's sake, even succeeding for the first ten to fifteen minutes or so, but by the time _Good King Wenceslas_ rolled around, he was starting to wish he'd pocketed his gloves before leaving the house. During _O Come, All ye Faithful_ he surreptitiously tried to warm his fingers by rubbing them together. And when the unmistakable first bars of _What Child Is This_ rang out, Richard couldn't take it anymore and cupped his hands in front of his mouth and gently blew hot air into them. This was doubly effective as it briefly warmed the frozen tip of his nose as well.

"Cold hands?" Lee asked under his breath, and Richard nodded sheepishly, embarrassed that Lee had noticed his distraction.

"Maybe this will help," Lee suggested, reaching for one of Richard's hands and rubbing it patiently between his own, then doing the same with the other. Richard watched, mesmerized by the sight of Lee's large, beautiful hands and afraid to move lest he break the spell. Through no deliberate action of his own, their fingers ended up curling into one another seamlessly, Lee's thigh providing a warm, firm pillow for their joined hands to rest on, and Richard thought that forgetting his gloves could not have worked out any better than this.

The rest of the concert went by in a haze, the melodies blending into one as they floated in one ear and out the other. Only _The First Noel_ made a lasting impression, as that was when Lee leaned in and whispered something about it being his favorite and Richard looked at him - or looked at his mouth, rather - and just like that, his mind went blank and he surged forward, pressing his lips to Lee's and kissing him, icy nose and all.

 _So much for leaving the initiative to Lee_. The thought flitted through his mind tauntingly, fear solidifying in his chest because for the first few, terrifying seconds, Lee didn't respond and it was too late for second thoughts and Richard was starting to absolutely loathe himself for this reckless, completely inappropriate mid-date kiss (in a place of worship, no less) until finally, thankfully, Lee caught on and twisted in his seat and leaned into Richard, allowing the kiss to become a mutual thing, a very mutual thing. And damn if Lee's lips weren't exactly as soft and warm as Richard had hoped they would be, even that gentle first press and slide of them making Richard's head spin with desire. But when he started to pull back, somewhat ashamed of his impetuousness, Lee muttered in protest and brought his arm around the back of the pew to tug him closer, his other hand crawling up the front of Richard's coat and briefly stroking his collar before cupping the side of his face - and things evolved from there.

Kissing in the back row of a church - now there was something Richard had never thought he'd do, especially in his late thirties and especially with a man like Lee, who was incredibly gorgeous and an incredibly good kisser and who had the most amazingly warm hands. And speaking of hands, Richard's may or may not have ended up under Lee's coat somehow and the heat radiating from Lee's body along with a hint of a tongue against his had a soft but very audible whimper escaping Richard's mouth which he could not rein back in.

From somewhere across the aisle came a disapproving cough, and although neither Lee nor Richard paid much attention to it, they broke apart soon after that, staring at each other with goofy matching grins on their faces.

"So, as I was saying," Lee continued, gaze flickering between Richard's eyes and his mouth as he licked his lips distractedly and smiled. "This carol is my favorite... now more than ever, actually."

In that moment, with the minty, toothpaste-y taste of Lee's mouth still lingering in his own and the memory of those soft lips still fresh in his mind, Richard felt decidedly more charitable towards carols than he had two minutes previously (although the kiss might as well have lasted two hours for all he knew). When Lee found out about a year later that Richard was not as big a fan of carols as he had led him to believe, he was upset for about half a minute, but some apologetic kisses and murmured reassurances from Richard quickly put an end to that.

"Do you know why I like carols now, or at least tolerate them?" Richard asked, waiting for Lee's expectant headshake. "Because every time I hear one I think of the first time we held hands and I kissed you and realized how stupidly infatuated with you I was - and still am, for that matter."

"Writers," Lee muttered at that, a smile breaking through his scowl as he pulled Richard in for more kisses. "Such a way with words."

Needless to say that Sophie, who knew like no other how deep Richard's aversion to Christmas music went, almost killed herself laughing when she heard what the date had entailed, pinching his cheek and calling him a hopeless romantic - which he was - for sitting through his own personal version of hell just to impress a guy. Of course, she wasn't laughing anymore once Richard told her about the kisses-- yes, plural, because as soon as they left the concert Lee was tugging him into a shadowy alcove with a broad smile, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing him breathless while the other audience members slowly filed out unaware. Not that Richard was aware of anything happening outside of that alcove; he only felt the cold of the stone wall seeping through the back of his coat and Lee's tongue nudging into his mouth and he was sure that if it wasn't for Lee's arms anchored around his waist, his knees would have given out.

"I've never done this before." Lee's voice lacked breath as he pulled away slightly to look Richard in the eye, smiling as he made the confession. "Kissed someone in a church, I mean."

Richard shook his head incredulously, wondering what kind of bizarre, beautiful dream he'd had the luck of falling into. "And I have never been asked out on a date by one of Santa's elves before, but I guess there's a first time for everything."

Once they finally managed to untangle themselves they'd gone for a stroll in Central Park, eating roasted chestnuts from a shared paper cone (they both liked them served with a generous dollop of spiced butter, and Lee's mouth tasted decidedly less like toothpaste but unchangingly delicious every time they stopped somewhere to exchange greasy kisses) and warming themselves at the fire pits and each other, holding hands and looping arms around each other's waists as often as they could get away with, and not a single thought of Brent crossed Richard's mind all night.

After the holidays, which they spent separately with their respective families, they'd gone on many more successful dates, and since Lee's roommate was away skiing it wasn't long at all before Lee made up some blatantly transparent excuse to ask Richard up to his apartment and Richard accepted and kissing and hand holding and cuddling became much, much more in the span of one long, magical, exhausting night.

There was a deep well to draw from, and Richard could easily have kept reminiscing like this for hours, but his musings _and_ his carefully executed tea ceremony - three years with Lee had not made him less of a fuss about how he drank his cuppa - were rudely interrupted by a sudden rustling noise and a solid body materializing behind him, trapping him against the kitchen counter. At the same time two familiar, long-fingered hands came up to cover his eyes. "Guess who?" murmured a low voice in his ear.

"Shit, Lee," Richard breathed, wondering if the other man could feel his heart racing with fright. "I didn't hear you coming down the stairs."

"It's not Lee." There was a certain curl in that voice that sparked warmth deep in Richard's belly. "And swearing is very, very naughty, Richard."

Richard's mouth went a little dry, his suddenly-sluggish mind struggling to figure out what exactly Lee was up to, although he certainly had a hunch. "Lee..."

"No, not Lee." A punishing little grind against Richard's arse that wrung an involuntary gasp from his lips. "Come on, Richard, I thought we were old friends, you and I. I'll give you one hint, listen carefully."

Richard held his breath as he waited with straining ears, unsure as to what he was supposed to hear, but after a few moments, there it was.

A soft, tinny jingle. As from a little bell. One that might be part of a-- of a--

_Oh, Jesus Christ._

"No, you didn't," he groaned, part entertained, part appalled (but mostly the latter). "For the love of all that is holy, please tell me you didn't."

Lee laughed and released him, beaming at Richard as he turned around and yes, he'd guessed right.

Lee was fucking wearing his old [elf costume](http://img.costumecraze.com/images/vendors/forum/62596-Santa-s-Helper-Elf-Costume-large.jpg). Hat, shoes, leggings, the entire getup he'd worn on the day they first met, the one that had been too small for him even then.

Having assumed it was a rental, Richard didn't even realize Lee still had the damn thing in his possession. But as he stood there staring at his boyfriend of three years - the man he thought of as the love of his life - all he could do was laugh. "Now there's a thing I'd never thought I'd see again. To what do I owe the pleasure, Merry?"

Lee responded with a wide, radiant grin of his own, puffing his chest out and idly stroking the velvet of his tunic. "I heard there was a tree here that needed decorating, so I thought I'd break out the old costume for the occasion. A little elf magic never goes amiss."

Richard's mouth twisted into an even wider grin. "Please tell me you're not thinking of doing some sort of skit when the kids are here. You'll scare poor Tilly, and if the boys saw you like this they would never let you live it down."

"Do you think they'd recognize me from three years ago?" Even though Tom and Seb did not believe in Santa anymore (they were now eight going on nine), the fact that Merry the elf and Uncle Lee were one and the same was not something Sophie had felt compelled to share with them. In fact, Richard doubted they even remembered that encounter after three years.

"Not with your beard the way it is." Richard burst out laughing again and gave Lee another once-over, tugging at one of the bells on his collar. "It's even smaller on you now than it was then, love," he said fondly, taking in the way the fabric strained around Lee's shoulders, chest and thighs. (And yes, he did in fact permit himself a few extra long moments to linger on those thighs that had caught his attention in Santa's grotto three years previously).

"Are you calling me fat?" Lee's smile faded, and he stepped forward, grabbed Richard by the front of his cardigan and pushed him up against the counter, shaking his head disapprovingly. "Very naughty indeed, Richard."

The alluring nearness of Lee's mouth - in fact, of his whole body - acutely reminded Richard of what Lee had been playing at before, and the laughter died in his throat at the implication. "I can't believe you're trying to seduce me dressed like that," he choked out indignantly (and hypocritically, because fuck if his blood wasn't starting to rush south at a shamefully rapid pace).

"Mmm, I wasn't planning to," Lee purred, "but when I saw you standing there wearing my favorite cardigan and those old jeans that make your ass look divine, well, I couldn't resist."

Richard smiled, pleased despite himself. "Divine, huh? Well, you always knew just what to say to boost my... elf-esteem."

He'd been looking for a window of opportunity to make the joke and barely refrained from tacking an eyebrow wiggle at the end of it, contenting himself instead with gazing proudly at Lee, who stared back for a few moments before bursting out laughing. "Oh my god, Richard. You fucking dork." He leaned forward to claim a spontaneous kiss, but Richard swiftly reached up to cover his mouth. "Wait, I have another one."

Lee shook his head. "Please don't." It sounded muffled from behind Richard's palm.

Richard just grinned. "If the sight of me making tea in my baggy old jeans is enough to get you all hot and bothered, you really ought to work on your... elf-control."

Lee groaned and rolled his eyes emphatically, pulling Richard's hand away from his mouth. "You're so corny, Rich. But I love you all the same. Come on." He curled his arm around Richard's waist and ushered him into the living room, where Gus had gotten into the box of decorations and was busy ripping up a tinsel garland, leaving a trail of glitter behind on the carpet. Being a rescue, he came with a quirk or two, including a need to chew on things - and one of the first things he’d zeroed in on after joining their household was the little plush dog Lee had given Richard on the day they met. Thankfully, they’d intervened before Gus’s teeth could cause any real damage, and the slobber had come off in the wash. These days the plushie, none the worse for wear, had pride of place on their bedroom dresser, safely out of Gus’s reach.

(Lee had eventually confirmed Richard's suspicion, confessing that the toy dog had not been one of the presents in Santa’s sack, but rather something that he had handpicked at a stall near the grotto. It was, he told Richard with an embarrassed grin as he recounted the story, the perfect excuse to chase after him and subtly slip him his phone number without the boys noticing. He never revealed how much he’d paid for it, but taking into account that he had accepted the temp job at the mall to scrape some funds together for the holidays, Richard knew that he hadn’t exactly been in a position to spend what money he had left over on gifts for random strangers.)

"No, Gus," Richard said by force of habit, unsurprised when Gus tore into the tinsel all the more enthusiastically. He had no authority over this dog whatsoever - which was ironic given how intimidating some people seemed to find Richard - but so far he had been resisting Lee's admittedly sensible suggestions that he and Gus attend puppy training, arguing that Gus was not a puppy anymore (to which Lee would reply that Gus was not the one most in need of training).

Richard was resigned to the fact that Lee would eventually wear him down on the issue.

"Naughty, Gus," Lee said firmly, snapping his fingers and pointing. "Basket. Now."

Gus whined but dropped the tinsel, his chocolate brown gaze going from Lee to his beloved new plaything and back.

"Gus," Lee warned, and off to his basket the Labrador went, tail hanging low. "Good boy."

"I don't know how you do that," Richard sulked as Lee pushed him into one of the armchairs and dropped to his knees in front of him, bells jingling as he did so.

"I'm a teacher to twenty-five six year olds," Lee pointed out drily. "Authority is my business. Don't worry, I've already resigned myself to the fact that you will get to be the fun parent to our kids."

Richard felt a pang of hopeful yearning at those casually spoken words. "Our kids," he repeated in a whisper, a gooey smile spreading across his face.

Lee nodded and gave Richard a loving smile back. "I know. I can't wait to start a family with you. But I feel like we should take advantage of having the house to ourselves while we can, don't you agree?" He slid his hands up Richard's thighs, looking up at his face as he gave him a single, experimental squeeze through the denim of his jeans. Richard sucked in a breath and bit his lip as he watched those long, nimble fingers go on to ease the buckle of his belt open. "Not even a kiss first to get me in the mood?" he asked croakily.

Lee smiled and dragged his thumb heavily across the swelling bulge at the front of Richard's jeans. "Seems to me like you're getting there just fine already," he teased, but he did lean forward, pressing his chest to Richard's and cupping his cheek in one hand as he kissed him, softly at first, and then a little less softly, his tongue coaxing Richard's mouth open in seconds.

It was a testament to Lee's skill and experience that he managed to open the button and zipper of Richard's jeans while kissing him at the same time, and even more impressively, Richard didn't realize it until he felt Lee's masterful fingers slipping underneath the waistband of his briefs, taking his cock out and giving it a first, firm stroke. Richard exhaled sharply and jolted up into it. "Oh fuck, baby, please."

"Swearing is naughty," Lee chastised, giving a punctuated little twist of his wrist that had Richard choking on his own breath. "And 'please' what?"

Richard blushed and closed his eyes, trying to block out the somewhat unsettling image of his cock being expertly handled by a Christmas elf (more precisely, his boyfriend in an elf costume, but the illusion was real enough). But fuck if he wasn't incredibly turned on regardless.

"Well?" Lee insisted, repeating the same, toe-curling move. "How can this elf be of service?"

And eventually, shame or not, Richard answered. "Your mouth," he rasped. "Use your mouth. Please."

Lee smiled and lowered himself into position, surveying Richard's straining erection as though he was seeing it for the first time. "This is quite the cock you've got here," he said, looking up with a half smirk that belied his innocent tone and wide-eyed look, "I hope I won't disappoint you."

It was a change of tactic Richard had not seen coming, and as far as his nether regions were concerned, it was effective. "Stop that," he gritted out, eyes glued to Lee's shapely mouth and imagining those full lips where he wanted them most. "You've done this before."

"I most certainly have not," Lee asserted, with a look of great offense that was disturbingly convincing. "I'm a good elf." Even as he spoke, he peeled the denim of Richard's jeans out of the way and pulled his briefs down along with it, Richard wriggling helpfully in the chair until he sat bare from the waist down, fabric pooling around his ankles.

"Don't let this get back to Santa," Lee said, still smirking conspiratorially as he dipped his head lower and delivered a first, teasing lick with the flat of his tongue, fingers holding Richard's cock steady. He repeated the move a few times, maintaining eye contact with every leisurely pass of his tongue along the underside and stopping shy of the head each time. It wasn't what Richard needed by a long shot.

"Come on," he urged, fingers curling around the armrests of the chair. "Give me more."

The demand was met by a chuckle, and at the next upward pass Lee's tongue went all the way, the tip of it swirling around the slit and his fingers squeezing below the head to tease more precome out. When Lee glanced up again, Richard's gaze was inexorably drawn to that beautiful mouth, the alluring shine of that pouty bottom lip, and he couldn't resist dragging his thumb along its length, gasping when Lee sucked the digit into his warm mouth, and sucked it in _deep_.

"Damn it, Lee," Richard moaned, receiving a sharp little nip as punishment for the curse (and possibly for breaking character and using Lee's real name), "how much longer are you going to torment me like this?"

All of a sudden the suction on his thumb disappeared and it was released with a wet _pop_. Next thing he knew, Lee was back at it, and this time around he was focusing his attentions on the head, slowly intensifying the deliberate strokes and curls of his tongue until Richard hung back in the chair panting and begging incoherently. When Lee's hand slid between his thighs to roll his balls between gentle fingers, he eagerly spread his legs - a little too eagerly, but concern for his dignity had long since gone out the window. "Oh, fuck, please, _please_."

It was a blessed relief when Lee finally started taking him in, unhurriedly, inch by excruciating inch. Richard almost lost it right there, hips twitching up of their own accord, and he felt the reverberations of the hum Lee gave in response, his fingers releasing Richard's cock and balls to curl around his hips instead and hold them down as he continued the slow but confident descent.

 _Innocent little elf indeed._ The thought came unbidden, and Richard might have laughed if he wasn't so extremely occupied with the incredible feeling of being sucked down that warm, velvety mouth, his brain shorting out as he felt the head of his cock nudging the back of Lee's throat and then going a bit deeper still. God, it was a snug fit - nothing could compare to being encased like this, those pliant muscles contracting around him. The thought of letting go, spilling hard and deep in the knowledge that Lee would welcome it, would take it and do so greedily, almost brought him to the brink right then.

It wasn't until Lee started working him in earnest, hand and mouth building up a sinuous rhythm together, that Richard became acutely aware of the fact that Lee was still wearing that fucking ridiculous hat, the bells at the tip jingling with every bob of his head. He tried not to let it distract him at first, to focus on the exquisite cadence and heat and pressure of Lee's fingers and mouth, but the repetitive, jarring sound became increasingly more difficult to ignore, especially once Gus started barking at the noise. He was bored in his basket and ready to play, if his enthusiastically wagging tail was any indication. Looking at their dog, who was looking at them while they were engaging in activities that most definitely should not be witnessed by a third party - even if that third party was non-human - Richard knew he couldn't keep quiet.

"Lee, for god's sake, stop," he groaned, prodding Lee's shoulder until Lee pulled off and gave him a startled look. "I can't do this with Gus barking and looking at us like that."

Lee looked over his shoulder at Gus and then back at Richard, a smile of understanding appearing on those distractingly swollen lips. "Do you want me to put him outside?"

Richard bit his lip guiltily as he looked out the window, not sure if he could stand the thought of banishing Gus to the garden. They'd had below zero temperatures all week and it was supposed to snow later. "It's too cold."

Lee shook his head, laughing and kissing Richard on the lips as he rose to his feet. "Not 'outside' outside, you big softie. In the garage." He smiled archly over his shoulder as he went to take care of it. "Feel free to take some clothes off in the meantime. Not that I'm opposed to the idea of you fucking me as you are, with your pants around your ankles, but I care about your comfort."

"Lee, I'm not going to fuck you when you're wearing that costume," Richard said, wishing the statement sounded as convincing as he had meant it to. It had been fun so far, more so than he'd feel comfortable admitting, but the thought of fucking Lee like that, bells jingling with every drive of his hips, was too much.

"Of course not, silly. I expect you to take it off me, first."

When Lee came back less than half a minute later - without Gus - Richard had barely succeeded in undressing from the waist down, the laces of his trainers proving a challenge for his shaking fingers. He finally managed to untie them, kicking both shoes halfway across the room and impatiently pulling off his socks, jeans and briefs in one messy tangle. Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to be graceful or dignified about it.

"Leave the rest," Lee said, pulling him to his feet. "Actually, the thought of you fucking me wearing that cardigan is kind of a turn on."

Richard meant to object, half convinced that Lee was pulling his leg, but when he caught a glimpse of Lee's erection, clearly outlined in those too-tight black leggings, he promptly forgot what he'd wanted to say.

They grabbed pillows and blankets from the couch and made quick work of preparing a makeshift bed on the floor in front of the Christmas tree. It occurred to Richard that this would be more romantic if the tree was actually decked out and lit, but that thought, like all others, evacuated his mind the moment Lee pulled him down to the floor and on top of him, legs parting for him to settle between. "May I keep my hat on?" he asked, blinking up at Richard quasi-demurely. The playful curl of his lip, however, was all Lee. "We never take them off, not even at night. Our elf magic is stored in there."

"You don't need your elf magic right now," Richard murmured as he eased the hat off of Lee's head. Like the baseball caps he sometimes wore, it left his hair looking flattened and a bit static, and Richard smiled at the endearingly familiar sight. "Unless it can conjure some lube? Because we could really use some of that." In his mind, he was already calculating the distance to wherever the nearest bottle of lube could be found. Bedroom or bathroom? It was the eternal conundrum.

But Lee reached into the folds of his costume and produced a little square packet, tucking it into the breast pocket of Richard's cardigan with a cocky smile. It made Richard laugh. "You seem awfully well-prepared for someone who claims not to have planned this."

"It's called being resourceful," Lee said innocently. "We wouldn't survive on the North Pole for very long if we weren't."

Lee then showed Richard how to get to the hidden zipper on the back of his tunic (it was a miracle that he'd gotten the thing zipped up unassisted, really). With Richard's help it came off quickly, as did those ridiculous shoes, his socks and undershirt. Richard stopped at the final piece, however, finding himself strangely fascinated with the way those black leggings brought out one of Lee's best features (other than his cock, which was still straining hard against its confines).

His legs. Or, more specifically, his thighs. Long and lean and strong, they'd drawn Richard's attention right off the bat, to the point where he had forgotten himself - and his five year old nephews - for a moment (okay, maybe more than one) and let his eyes roam freely, thinking of the powerful rush those thighs would give him when gripping his waist.

But there was one other feature Richard _hadn't_ been able to fully appreciate on that day almost three years ago, and here it was-- a perfect opportunity to amend that.

Biting back an anticipatory smile, Richard leaned down to indulge in a series of long, lazy kisses, letting his fingers explore the planes of Lee's chest and reveling in the way Lee arched up against him and sighed his name over and over, interspersed with endearments and the odd whispered request that made lust twinge in Richard's belly. He almost felt guilty for what he was about to ask, but he vowed neither of them would be sorry for long. "Turn around," he instructed, low against the shell of Lee's ear. "On your knees."

Lee complied without a moment's hesitation, grinning over his shoulder at Richard as he rolled over and presented his ass, even pushing it into Richard's hands as he laid them against the cheeks.

"Not exactly how I would expect a self-proclaimed 'good elf' to behave," Richard observed, pinching one of said cheeks reproachfully and earning himself a giggle and another push.

Deciding that he wanted to wring an entirely different kind of noise from Lee's mouth, and preferably a whole litany of them, Richard moved in on his knees and pressed himself against Lee's backside, making sure that the shaft of his cock was perfectly centered as he held Lee steady by the hips and started a slow and insistent rut.

"Oh my god," Lee grunted, and he lowered his forehead into the pillow, fingers grasping at the blanket on which he knelt. "Ah, fuck, Rich."

Pleased with this result, Richard continued to grind into Lee's ass for as long as he could stand the friction of cotton against his cock, pulling back when it became too much, painful almost. He let his thumb take over, running it down the crack of Lee's ass until he felt the heavy swell of his balls (and no, Lee very definitely wasn't wearing underwear). He slowly dragged his thumb back up, repeating this several times before zeroing in on Lee's entrance. A gasp got caught in Lee's throat and a twitch and a shudder ran through his limbs, Richard's meticulous ministrations garnering a strong response even through the barrier of fabric. For a moment, Richard toyed with the tempting thought of pulling those leggings down without warning, spreading Lee's legs and pushing his tongue in as deep as it would go, but he decided against it, putting his hands on that delectable ass and indulging himself with another squeeze instead. "So, you said something about wanting me to fuck you."

A groan from Lee. "Yes. God, please, yes."

"Do you want to turn around?"

Lee shook his head emphatically. "No, like this. Ride me just like this."

Richard's cock twitched traitorously at the stifled command, ready to obey, but Richard was not going to give in to any animalistic urges. He took a breath and began to ease the waistband of Lee's leggings down his hips, baring his ass inch by inch until he had all the access he needed (and fuck if the sight didn't give him a slew of ideas as to what he could do when Lee was positioned in front of him like this). He fished the packet of lube from his pocket and slicked his fingers liberally, relieved to find that unlike before, they were steady - at least steady enough for the job at hand. At the first press of a fingertip, Lee exhaled a relieved _yes_ and clutched at the blanket, Richard mesmerized by the way the muscles in his shoulders and back moved and jumped under his skin as he did so.

One finger soon became two, Richard so tuned in to Lee's body that he could get him ready in under a minute if he wanted, but he did like taking his time for the task, patiently working him open with ever-deepening strokes and rotations of his fingers while Lee moaned rapturously into the pillow and pushed back against him in search of that hidden spot within. But Richard refused to be rushed, smiling at Lee's protesting whimpers and sitting back slightly to watch as he easily slid a third finger in. An inarticulate, high-pitched yelp escaped Lee, and he canted his hips in a renewed attempt to create the angle he wanted. "Come _on_ ," he demanded, stretching the final consonant into a long unhappy whine. "Quit fucking around."

"I've got this, love," Richard murmured as he crooked his fingers just so and dragged the tips heavily across Lee's prostate in three consecutive strokes, relishing the way Lee collapsed onto his elbows and the muffled wail that tore from his throat. As Richard built up a rhythm, deep and precise and insistent, Lee grasped his cock in a shaking hand and tried to match that rhythm, thighs trembling as he rocked back into Richard's strokes erratically. When tiny beads of perspiration started popping out along his spine, their sheen highlighting the sloping curve of his back in a most alluring way, Richard scrabbled for the lube packet with his free hand and squeezed the last drops directly onto his cock. "Like this?" he checked, pulling his fingers out and giving himself a few quick strokes before moving into position. "You're sure?"

"Fuck, _yes_ ," came Lee's emphatic answer, and an amused smile flitted across Richard's face as he gripped Lee's hips for leverage and pushed home, not stopping until their thighs and hips were pressed flush together and all Richard felt was the snug, pulsing heat surrounding his cock. "Oh, damn it," he gasped out, closing his eyes so as to savor the feeling even more. Three years together and the wonder of it still felt new every time. Richard did not expect this to ever change. He hoped that in another three, thirteen or even thirty years' time, the privilege of fucking Lee would still bring the occasional tear to his eye.

" _Move_ ," Lee pleaded, the hand on his cock slowing down to an almost nonexistent pace. "I need you to fuck me, Richard. _Please_."

And Richard complied with the husky request, planting his knees into the soft blanket and curling his fingers more tightly around Lee's hipbones as he rocked back on his heels, watching his cock reemerge almost completely and taking a moment to appreciate the sight before pushing back in. It earned a low, drawn-out moan from Lee, cutting off into a gasp when his cock struck its mark. "Fuck, yes, just there. So good, baby."

Whatever intentions Richard may have had to draw things out soon went out the window, the feeling of Lee's muscles gripping his cock and the sound of his encouraging moans spurring him into a faster pace. There was something about this position that always heated his blood, too, Lee on wide-splayed knees in front of him, back twisting and shoulders clenching and muscles rippling as he braced himself against Richard's thrusts, each of them punctuated by an _oh_ or an _ah_ or a _fuck yes more, Richard, give me that cock, come on._

There wasn't a more powerful aphrodisiac in the world than Lee begging, and Richard couldn't resist pulling him back onto his cock a little more roughly, marveling as always at how well they fit together and how rowdy they could afford to get once they were in the throes and everything was loose and relaxed and slick. His fingers were likely squeezing bruises into Lee's hips even now, the slide of his cock stretching him wide, and yet Lee was still urging him on. Richard tried to grasp at what little self-restraint remained to him, not wanting Lee to feel any discomfort once they got to the aftermath and the endorphins wore off.

When he felt, worryingly, the beginnings of that warning pulling sensation in the pit of his belly, Richard slowed to a halt and leaned forward to nuzzle Lee's neck and shoulders, lovingly mapping the pattern of freckles with his lips and tasting salt. The tenderness of the gesture went unappreciated by Lee, who whimpered and writhed around his cock to make his displeasure about the sudden interruption known. "No," he protested, "why are you stopping?"

"I don't want to finish like this," Richard told him in a low murmur, relishing the responding shiver than ran through Lee's body. "I want to finish with you riding me, watching you as we both come, together. If you are okay with that." He delivered those last words with a smirk and a small but deliberate roll of his hips.

With another whimper, of concession this time, Lee twisted his head around and kissed him, almost surprisingly gently given how ferociously they'd been going at it only half a minute ago. "Better get naked then," he suggested, smirking at Richard from under lowered lashes. "Don't want to ruin that nice cardigan."

They disengaged and quickly divested themselves - or rather each other - of their remaining clothes. "We are definitely not going to be able to do this once we have one or two little ones running around," Lee pointed out with a cheeky grin as he pushed Richard back into the pillows and swung his leg over.

"Fuck in front of the Christmas tree in broad daylight, you mean?"

"Yeah. That." Lee bent forward in a graceful arch and kissed him, fingers cupping his chin. "We'll have to get even more inventive."

"No complaints here."

Lee pulled back with a laugh and reached behind him for Richard's cock, angling it up and guiding it inside himself as he slowly sank down, exerting perfect control with those incredible thighs (mostly part of his genetic package, honed only by his rain-or-shine morning runs, a longstanding hobby of his he'd unsuccessfully tried to sell to Richard, who had to concede that he simply appreciated his sleep-ins far too much). He took all of Richard in one steady drop, and Richard piled the pillows beneath his head a little higher so he wouldn't miss a single thing. "God, you look amazing," he blurted, staring at him in awe as he slid his hands around his hips and grabbed his ass. Lee smiled quasi-sweetly and gave him a teasing little squeeze, grinding down for emphasis.

Once Lee started riding him in earnest, however, there was no more teasing and definitely no more talking, and Richard's world was rapidly folding in on itself, narrowing a bit more with every expert gyration of Lee's hips - every time they lifted up, clenching all the way, and then thrust back down, ass sinking snugly into Richard's lap. It got even better when Lee leaned back on his hands, back arched and pelvis tilted so that Richard could see, in minute detail, his cock disappearing up to the root in Lee's body and reappearing slick with the precome those strong muscles were skillfully squeezing out of him.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered, entranced by the sight, as his hands started to wander from Lee's undulating hips to his abdomen, his swaying cock. While he pumped it with one hand, enjoying the feeling of Lee sinuously pushing back into his fist, he slipped a finger of his other hand between Lee's legs, traced it down his perineum and gently touched his rim where it stretched around him. Lee's hips stuttered at that, his mouth falling open in a silent moan, and Richard repeated the touch for the sheer pleasure of feeling him tremble, muttering nonsensical praise about how good it felt, because it really, really did.

After three years, it still perplexed him just _how_ good.

In the end, though, his hands inevitably settled on Lee's thighs, sliding around to grip the backs and clutch and hold on as if for dear life. He watched as if transfixed, soaking up the movements and trying to match them as best he could, and when he finally managed to drag his gaze up to Lee's face, he found it smirking at him knowingly, cheeks flushed pink with the exertion and messy hair clinging wet to his forehead. "Enjoying the show?"

Richard let out a self-conscious chuckle. "I just really fucking love your legs, okay? And your hands and your mouth and the way it feels around my cock and how good you look riding me. Fuck, I love the whole package." He ran out of breath on the last few words and arched his head back into the pillow, struggling to stave off the wave he felt rolling in but knowing that there wasn't much time. "God, Lee, it's good, I'm-"

Lee didn't need more warning than that, tugging Richard up by his arms and guiding one of his hands to his cock. Richard coiled his other arm around Lee's waist and watched, mesmerized, as Lee rocked ever more frantically in his lap, bottom lip mangled between his teeth and their foreheads pressed together.

"Please, please," he chanted, and Richard instinctively palmed his cock faster, the slick, velvety heat of it slipping through his fist. "Close, Richard, god, so fucking close, _please_ -"

"Lee," Richard groaned, low and throaty, lost in the powerful contractions deep within Lee's body, wrenching his orgasm from him despite his best attempts to delay it. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I can't-"

Lee rocked against him with a loud gasp, Richard's apology negated by the wet warmth he felt coating his fingers and covering his abdomen in splatters while he poured out inside Lee at the same time, the perfect synchronicity of it - when it occurred - never failing to leave him gasping with euphoria and dazed with gratitude and love.

Lee continued to swivel on his cock with gradually slowing movements until he'd milked every last drop from it, and with a deep, contented sigh he finally stopped, head tipped back and a dopey, sated grin on his face. He reached out to run shaking fingers through Richard's hair, which, as it turned out, was no less drenched than his. "Fuck, babe, that was amazing."

They collapsed on their rumpled makeshift bed and cuddled close together as they caught their breaths, Lee reaching out with a heavy arm to sluggishly pull a blanket over their sweaty, rapidly cooling bodies. It surprised Richard how comfortable he was here on the living room floor, no less so than he would be in their king-sized bed upstairs.

"Well," Richard said once his pulse normalized somewhat, "I stand by my earlier comment."

"Hm? What comment?" Lee asked in a drowsy, sex-roughened voice. God, but Richard loved it when his voice sounded like that, all sluggish and hoarse and like he'd been done particularly well.

"The moves you demonstrated riding my cock just now? Definitely not the way of a so-called good elf. And without your magic hat, no less."

Lee chuckled. "Okay, you got me. So holding on to the costume was not such a bad idea then, was it?"

"I think it may have been one of your best ideas yet."

Just when Richard closed his eyes in bliss and decided that he could happily stay there forever, with their bodies closely entangled and Lee's warm skin pressed flush against his, they both heard, softly but distinctly, Gus whining mournfully from within the garage and pawing at the door in protest of his solitary confinement. It made them both laugh somewhat guiltily.

"You know what," Lee observed, not lifting his head from where it was tucked into the crook of Richard's shoulder. "I think that in terms of privacy and freedom, a kid won't be such a huge adjustment."

"We can't lock a kid in the garage every time we want to have sex, Lee. That kind of thing is generally frowned upon."

Lee hummed and snuggled that little bit closer. "Fuck, I really don't want to get up but Gus whining like that cuts through my soul."

"Now who's the softie here?"

Lee admonished him with a lazy nudge. "Shower, babe? You and me?"

"I guess that's a good idea." Richard sighed and tipped Lee's chin up with his fingers, gazing fondly into his eyes and seeing that fondness mirrored back at him. "And I already know what we can do after that."

As expected, Lee misunderstood - or chose to misunderstand - these words, his lips curving into a smile. "Oh yeah?" he murmured seductively, craning his neck to guide his mouth closer in what was as blatant an invitation for a kiss as any Richard had ever seen. "Do tell, baby."

Richard pulled away slightly to kiss Lee's forehead instead. "How about you put some proper clothes on," he said, grinning at the dissatisfied whimper Lee gave in response, "and help me decorate this bloody tree."


End file.
